


Cinnamon Rolls

by Moreena



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, Dirty Talk, Kitchen Sex, Lingerie, M/M, Masturbation, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 09:03:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10083596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moreena/pseuds/Moreena
Summary: Trowa's due back sometime that day.  Quatre's missed him for the week he's been gone.  So he whips up a favorite treat, and a sexy little surprise.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Fic based on this photo prompt I found!!!  
> 
> 
> Happy 3x4 Day!!!!!!!!

He had a mixture of classical music playing out of the speakers in the house. He’d had a sound system wired up that had a device in every room, so you could just listen to music or radio wherever in the house you went. It was convenient when he decided to switch from working in the living room to his office, or one of them was being seductive and they went from having a romantic dinner laced with sexual overtures to their bedroom to have an all-night sexual marathon.

Today, it was perfect background noise. The apartment had been too quiet for the past week, with just him in it. Trowa had been shipped out for something with Preventers, and Quatre had missed him terribly. Too much silence drove him mad, and the utter stillness when he came home, knowing Trowa wasn’t there already, or would be coming home soon unnerved him, raked across his nerves like nails on a chalkboard. So, he kept the music playing, to drown out that quiet, and to distract himself. He slipped the pan of cinnamon rolls into the oven with a satisfied look on his face.

Turning to survey the state of the kitchen, he sighed a little to himself. It wasn’t that messy, thankfully. He’d kept things rather contained, and the dishwasher helped. He quickly set the timer for the rolls and leaned back against the table, shivering a bit when the cool edge of the wood pressed against his heated skin. He knew Trowa was coming home sometime that day. And he wanted to surprise his lover in the best way possible.

That’s why he was baking in their kitchen, naked except for a lacey black thong and a skimpy little black apron. Not the best color to be wearing when working with flour, but he didn’t care. Trowa would appreciate the sentiment. He’d also appreciate the contrast of sheer black material encircling his hips and cock, and parting his cheeks. It was by far one of the tamer things that they’d done.

Quatre had always been aware of his sexual nature, and just how widely arching his desires were. Trowa had been an excellent study. He’d accepted most of Quatre’s proclivities with the natural grace he possessed, and sometimes even offered up his own ideas. Trowa hadn’t blinked when Quatre had worn lingerie one time, and had actually seemed to enjoy the sight. There were things that they’d tried that they’d both unanimously agreed they’d never try again. Or that they’d never try at all, like anything in the breath play/asphyxiation world. Too close to memories of the war for either of them.

So, Quatre waiting for him to come home in lacey lingerie was tame. What made it a little more graphic was the fact that he had to make each movement careful, or he’d shift the plug he’d used on himself. The underwear were doing an excellent job of making sure the black silicone stayed snugly inside of him, pressed deep enough that he could feel every motion of his body. He’d taken the time that morning to lay himself out on the bed and carefully work his body open with his fingers, going slow. It had been a week, and he just didn’t enjoy the orgasm if he did it himself. So, he was crawling the walls, almost desperate for Trowa to come home and fuck him.

Quatre had worked one finger, then a second inside himself as he laid on his back on the bed, carefully stretching himself. He whined and whimpered as he went, wishing the fingers stretching him were bigger and longer. Trowa’s fingers. When he was taking both of them with ease, he pulled them out and added a bit more lube before he added a third finger, hissing out loud at the feel of the stretch. It had been so long, but he loved that slight burn, that tinge of pain that accompanied such breathtaking pleasure. When his body was craving even more, and deeper, he slipped his fingers from his hole and put a bit of lube on the plug, carefully smoothing the liquid over the silicone. It was buttery soft, but nothing like real flesh. When he was satisfied that it was slick enough, he spread his legs wider and brought it down between his legs. He gasped when the blunt tip brushed against his entrance, sending sparks of arousal across his nerves. Using a bit of force, he managed to finally hold it against his hole and started to work it inside. With a low groan, he started to fuck himself on it, moving it in deeper with each thrust. When the base came to rest against his entrance, he let out a low shaky breath, running his clean hand through his hair.

Standing proved to be a challenge, but he managed it. Pulling up the underwear had been an adventure too. He’d tried to lift one leg high enough to pull it on, but the movement made the plug shift and nudge against his prostate. He’d sat down on the edge of the bed, a gasping cry falling from his lips as the plug pressed deep into him, ruthlessly assaulting his prostate and making his cock almost rock hard, instantly. Panting heavily, he managed to get the underwear on and pulled up to his thighs. Standing, he pulled them up the rest of the way, settling the waistband on his hips, his cock pressed snuggly to his body by the fabric. He was grateful he always splurged for these kinds of things, so the lace was supple against his skin, and not scratchy, like the cheaper ones would have been.

 

And that had been his day so far. He stood leaning against the table, enjoying the Mozart that drifted from the speakers now, watching the time round down on the cinnamon rolls. Trowa would be thrilled to come home to such a labor-intensive treat, and a demanding treat. The timer was going off, and he heard the apartment door being opened just down the hall from where he was. With a rather delightful grin, ne busied himself with grabbing oven mitts and opening the oven, pulling out the treats and setting them on the stove top, before he closed the oven, his ears picking up the footfalls of his lover as he rounded the corner into the kitchen. He knew he was a sight.

Indeed, Trowa rounded the corner and was about to greet his lover when he caught sight of the blonde, dropping his duffel bag onto the floor in the doorway. Quatre was bent over in front of the oven, dressed in absolutely nothing but a black thong, showing off his ass and so much pale, creamy flesh. While the week had been hard on Trowa, it had obviously been harder on his little lover. The poor blonde was so in tune with his body that sometimes Trowa wondered how he got things done, and if he was simply an undiagnosed nymphomaniac.

“Welcome home,” Quatre called out, looking over his shoulder and grinning like a fool, knowing what kind of effect this sort of thing would have on his lover.

“Unexpected… I take it you missed me?” Trowa teased, leaning against the doorframe and regarding Quatre with an unwavering gaze.

He took in every detail. The patches of skin that the lace revealed. The flush to Quatre’s face, his cheeks pink with arousal. The slight hitch to his step as he moved from the oven to the table, which made Trowa raise an eyebrow at him.

“You have no idea how much. Please, come here?” The blonde responded, sinking slow to his knees by the table, flashing an expectant look at his lover.

Trowa moved faster than either of them could blink. He’d crossed the kitchen in three strides and was there, invading Quatre’s space, one hand carding through those blonde locks. They had a routine of sorts, whenever one of them went away. They had to get their need out of their system. Quatre couldn’t settle down until he’d gotten at least one orgasm out of the taller brunette. After that, they could greet one another properly, and Quatre could focus.

Quatre’s hands went immediately to Trowa’s jeans, unbuckling his belt and unzipping them. He was glad that the brunette had outgrown the practically painted on jeans trend for jeans that fit him just a little looser. It made sex so much easier, and less uncomfortable. With a happy noise, Quatre finally revealed his prize, leaning up on his knees to just inhale Trowa’s aroma. It had just been too long, that he knelt there, breathing in deeply, nuzzling his cheek against Trowa’s half hard cock.

“Quatre. Baby don’t tease me. I come home to you looking like that and you’re making me wait? Not fair.” Trowa groaned out, looking down, meeting Quatre’s steady gaze.

“I won’t. I just missed all of you. Your scent, your taste. Your presence,” he murmured softly, his entire body giving a shiver, before he licked a hot wet stripe up the length of Trowa’s cock.

Trowa fell forward, his hands landing on the table to catch himself, landing in the flour that still covered the table. But, he was too into what was going on below his waist to care. Quatre went after his prize with gusto, licking and sucking at the length of him. He made low noises in his throat and sucked on Trowa’s cock, keeping his mouth loose and slick. He wanted this to be quick and messy. While he was prepared, he hadn’t put lube in the kitchen, and he didn’t want things to have to pause even for that. So, he kept it wet, drooling all over his lover’s length, eyes closed in bliss as he went to work, drawing out all manner of sounds from his quieter lover, determined to make Trowa cave in and beg first.

“Enough… Fuck Quat, stop.” Trowa rasped, trying to tug his hips away from that sinful mouth, unwilling for this to end here.

Pulling off Trowa’s cock with a wet pop, Quatre looked up at him, looking as far from angelic as possible. How could anyone look like an angel while they were on their knees, lips swollen from sucking cock, said cock still in his hand, near his face. He let Trowa’s cock fall from his hand and stood up, Trowa’s hands moving to the small of his back to press Quatre’s body against his own, grinding their cocks together as he devoured Quatre’s mouth. Quatre whined into the kiss, sucking on Trowa’s tongue like it was the only thing that could keep him alive. Breaking the kiss, Quatre pulled back to turn around, bending over the table, pressing his chest to the cool wood, enjoying the sensation as it chilled his overheated skin.

“Please,” Quatre whimpered, looking over his shoulder at the taller man again.

“I gotta get something. I won’t fuck you dry,” Trowa said, his voice stern. That was one thing he’d never do, was intentionally hurt the blonde.

“Don’t need it. I’m so ready. Please Trowa!” Quatre pleaded, wiggling his hips in an attempt to entice the brunette.

Frowning slightly, Trowa stepped closer, finally realize what had caused the hitch in Quatre’s steps. He’d taken the time to prep and plug himself up. So he was more than ready. Now it was Trowa’s to smirk, and to tease. Reaching a hand out, he slid Quatre’s underwear to the side, allowing access to the plug. With a sure grip, he tugged on it a little, then pressed it back inside, nudging the tip against Quatre’s prostate before pulling back. Quatre let out a cry of ecstasy, hips jerking backwards in an attempt to chase that feeling.

“You’re so ready for this aren’t you? Which one did use?” He queried, continuing to fuck Quatre with the plug, teasing them both.

“The one that’s close to your size,” Quatre gasped out between thrusts, fingers scrambling for purchase against the table. “Please Trowa. Please fuck me. I need you. Need your cock in me.” He begged, resting his forehead against the table, his skin on fire.

“Ok. Let’s take the edge off you,” Trowa finally acquiesced, withdrawing the plug and dropping it onto the table.

His hands took hold of Quatre’s cheeks and pulled them apart, exposing his quivering hole. He didn’t bother to hold himself. He pressed his hips forward, the head of his cock brushing at Quatre’s hole. With a steady push, he pressed himself inside, sheathing his cock in Quatre’s body. They both moaned together, Trowa’s low and guttural, Quatre’s high pitched relieved.

That sting of Trowa forcing open his body that last bit that the plug hadn’t done had him soaring on a high. Finally being filled in the way he wanted after a week of being bereft had his body thrumming with energy, and he shoved himself backwards, trying to get Trowa to move.

“Gonna fuck you good baby,” Trowa admitted, leaning over to nip at Quatre’s neck to placate him. 

Keeping his cheeks spread with his hands, Trowa began to fuck his little blonde lover, their hips slapping together, sounding wet from the use of the lube. It was a brutal pace, and it wasn’t going to last. They were both desperate and needy, had an itch they needed to satisfy. There would be time for drawn out, longer rounds later on. As soon as Trowa got into a rhythm, he set a brutal pace, slamming into Quatre’s body with all his strength, using his hips and back to make sure Quatre was able to get full enjoyment from each thrust.

He was crying out constantly, his hips lifting to meet each thrust. He didn’t know how long they fucked, just that Trowa’s body filled him so much better than the plug. Trowa’s body in him and around him just made him so satisfied and aroused.

“Jerk yourself off,” Trowa demanded, teeth gritted together, letting Quatre know that he wasn’t going to last much longer.

It was slightly awkward to get his arm between his body weight and the table with the thrusting, but he managed it somehow. He rubbed at his cock through the lace, thumb brushing against the head of his cock. It was the catalyst that he needed. Just that bit of pressure and touch, and he came undone, his cock spurting in heavy pulses, a week of buildup rushing out of him in mere moments. His body clamped down around Trowa, squeezing hard like a vice, and Trowa was lost, rutting himself inside Quatre’s body with short, jerky thrusts as his own orgasm came over him. He spilled himself with long pulses against Quatre’s walls and inside his body, moaning low in his throat as he came.

They both stood there, catching their breath, as Trowa let go of Quatre’s ass. He ruined the afterglow with a throaty chuckle, that had Quatre looking back at him with a quizzical look.

“Don’t move,” Trowa admonished, reaching into his jeans for his phone. He hurriedly took a picture, and Quatre panicked slightly.

“The hell are you doing?” Quatre blurted out, aghast that Trowa would do something like that without even asking or warning him first.

“You’ll see,” Trowa responded, carefully withdrawing himself from Quatre’s body. 

Snagging the plug, he carefully pressed it back inside of the blonde, knowing what it would do to him, how Quatre would soon be acting like a cat in heat, pawing at Trowa, begging in that pretty little voice to be fucked again. And Trowa would do it. Over and over, until they were both too spent to move, until even the thought of fucking would make them shiver in overstimulation. When it was nestled back in, Trowa allowed the blonde to stand up, and he did so, his chest coated in a layer of flour. Shrugging, Quatre leant back against the table, silently looking at Trowa and telling him he’d better hurry up and show him whatever was so important, because Quatre didn’t like things like that. Trowa merely kept his phone in his hand and turned the device around to show Quatre.

Quatre looked good, sprawled across the table in a pile of flour. With distinct hand prints on his lower back and ass, also made of flour. He snorted and shook his head.

“I think a shower is a good idea,” he responded with a laugh.

“Only if I can have a cinnamon roll first,” Trowa said, already crossing the kitchen to the pan and grabbing one before Quatre could deny him. 

“I’m your cinnamon roll, thank you very much. I hope you plan on eating me later.” He purred out before he practically bounced out of the kitchen, heading for the bathroom to take a shower, leaving Trowa standing there with a mouthful of food, suddenly knowing he was in for a long weekend of satisfying Quatre’s libido. 

He only hoped his own could keep up.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Gundam Tumblr](http://weiclown.tumblr.com/)


End file.
